This Is The Goo I've Got – Page 55 – Colliding hadrons in my underpants since 2002

Merry kiss-mouse

Last week’s fiasco with the car required me to replace the radiator at a cost of approximately Â£100 + VAT + labour + VAT on labour (no doubt). It also meant that I needed to arrange transport to get back to my home and then back to Karen’s at the end of the week. It also meant that I needed to arrange transportation into work, which consisted of one train journey and 100 miles in one of our company’s cars, which I had to be insured on, and which I generously filled up with diesel at the end of the week, even though it had only been half full when I had picked it up.

Total cost – I’d estimate nearly Â£300.

This morning, whilst putting a last minute christmas card into a big shiny red pillar box, I noticed that my right tail light wasn’t working.

I popped round to the garage to get a replacement 12V 5W bulb for Â£1, which I fitted myself in about 12 seconds.

Conclusion: if I can find a way to cool a naturally aspirated petrol engine using only light bulbs, I may be in line for a Nobel prize.

Merry kiss-mouse, people. If you find a mouse on your windowsill, give it a kiss. The odds of it transferring a disease to you are sufficiently small that it is worth it for the joy that you will get when you see the smile on its little mousey face.

And remember, keep your mouth closed when you kiss mice. Though they like a big sloppy Frenchie with tongues as much as the next rodent, you should be conscious that they also like warm, damp holes in which to make a nest, and once a mouse gets under your tongue it can only be coaxed out by dangling small cubes of Gouda from your nose.

*Originally posted here*

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What’s red and yellow and featherless down one side

Post author By pete
Post date 2003-12-08
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As soon as the tree goes up, I can stop feeling festive again. It’s a great relief. Then all the tinsel and lights just become another way of decorating the flat – totally meaningless, no significance whatsoever. That’s how things should be. All things should be insignificant. Even the important things. Less ego.

Some of the things that we do will be bigger than other things. Sometimes we will find ourselves passing our days working away on one small project after another, and sometimes we will be confronted by something enormous, something so big that even when you stand back you can’t see all of it at once. And then you have to break it up into smaller pieces, like the squirrel.

Mmmmm, cubed squirrel meat…

At first, you will find that your pan will contain a few small cubes of squirrel. It will be a big, empty pan, with some pieces of squirrel in the bottom. Daunting.

And then, it will start to look like a pan full of squirrel cubes, but with some space in it. Less daunting, but still incomplete. Don’t fuck up now. You’re not out of the woods yet.

One day, if you are very, very lucky, you will be the proud owner of a pan full of squirrel, all succulent and tender, fresh from the tree. And then you can cook your squirrel, enjoy your squirrel, devour your squirrel.

Devour your squirrel.

Oh, and by the way…

…the answer is: a canary that has been held up to an industrial sander.

*Originally posted here*

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Drying Is Fun

Post author By pete
Post date 2003-11-16
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**Drying Is Fun**
ISDN 6-666-666666666-6666666666666666666

This book, by popular childrens’ author Spudchop Tagliatelle, is a must-have for parents of children suffering from post-shower-towelphobia. Witty and beautifully illustrated by popular childrens’ illustrator Robert Crowsfeet, it adopts a patronising tone that the children will mistake for sincerity, yet the parents will recognise as sharp piss-taking out of this pathetic affliction.

*Also by the same author:*

* Chewing Properly Before Swallowing Is Fun
* Waiting Until You Are In The Toilet Before Relaxing Your Appropriate Muscles Is Fun
* Keeping Out Of The Fucking Garage You Little Shit Is Fun
* Well-formed HTML Is Fun>

*Originally posted here*

Fiction

I owe you an explanation

There are a wealth of good reasons why I have not been around here much lately, and I really do owe you all an explanation.

Once there was a farmer who worked the land. He had three sons, called Aaron, Bbron and Ccron.

As he grew old, he decided that he would need to work out how to divide up his land between his sons when he finally became too old to look after the land himself.

To Aaron, he gave a marker pen. He said to Aaron “Aaron, shove this marker pen up your nose.”

To Bbron, he gave a paintbrush. He said to Bbron “Bbron, take this paintbrush and ram it where the sun doesn’t shine.”

To Ccron, he gave a bucket of cow shit. He said to Ccron “Ccron, I always hated you, ya fucking wanker.”

His sons stared at him in disbelief. “But father, ” they said “How does this help you to decide how to share up the land when you get too old to look after the land yourself?”

He replied “Fuck you all, you bunch of pussies! I’m selling the farm and retiring to the Isle of Wight!”

His sons were shocked. “You fucking twat.” they said.

He could only reply “Fuck you.”

*Originally posted here*

About Me Meander

was that the title you wanted?

Post author By pete
Post date 2003-09-29
No Comments on was that the title you wanted?

The drive back from Mallory Park lead us very close to my old Uni, so I took Karen for a quick tour of the world which I once inhabited. Firstly I drove her past the house where I had lived three doors down from the fish and chip shop, and then we doubled back and drove onto the campus. I was consumed with nostalgia. I didn’t realise until we walked past a ground floor kitchen that it was five years to the day since my first day there. All the freshers were sat around having their first-night meetings with the resident tutors, like I had done five years ago that day.

Whenever I move house I lose ownership of my memories. I don’t know why this is, but everything that I have ever done seems to have happened to someone else. The images still exist clearly in my mind, but I am no longer the central character. I know that the events took place, and I was surely present, yet not there at all. I guess that it has something to do with environmental triggers. I have been living in my current flat for over a year, and in that time the same thing has happened. Flatmates have come and gone, I’ve switched jobs, I’ve moved the furniture around in the sitting room. All this combines to leave me feeling like a different person to how I did a year ago. Though I definitely remember being there a year ago, my face has been erased from my memory so that I can’t be certain that it was really me in the picture. I have to rely on logic to deduce that it had to be me – it can’t have been anybody else.

But for that half hour, surrounded by the residences and the grass and the trees and the lake and the launderette and the sports centre and the geese, all the memories belonged to me again. It was definitely me. I was there.

*Originally posted here*

Meander

How to solve a problem like Maria

Post author By pete
Post date 2003-08-27
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Maria used to cut my hair. And she was good.

We met on Valentine’s Day this year. She was on a break from her boyfriend, and was looking forward to her shift ending in half an hour so that she could go off on a girls’ night out with her friends. I was looking forward to having my hair cut, because the following day I was to take a female friend to the theatre, and though there was no romantic angle on this rendezvous, I still wanted to look nice.

We hit it off. I liked the way that she ran her fingers through my hair, and she liked the way that I liked the way that she ran her fingers through my hair. She cat my hair with precision, with deliberation and care. She made me look good.

She cat my hair on the day before mine and Karen’s first meal out together, the meal that eventually became our first date. At the time I hadn’t known that it was a date, but had I known, I’m sure that Maria would have wished me luck.

Then it all went wrong. The salon where Maria worked changed management. I put it off for as long as possible, but eventually I couldn’t hang on any longer. I needed a haircut. I phoned up for Maria but her shifts had been changed and she no longer worked at the times when I was available – I was going to have to have my hair cut by some spotty young oik.

The haircut wasn’t so good. The neckline was wrong, the sideburns were all wrong. Nobody could cut hair like Maria. I was plunged into depression, and lost my job, my car, my house, my wife and my shoes. The love af-hair had come to an end.

Today I ventured into a hairdressers for my first time in ages. From the outside, it looked cheap and tacky, exactly the sort of place which would not remind me of Maria. Maria was clean. Maria was elegant. Maria had a wondrously harmonious Southern accent, which twanged and pinged as if she was playing my hairs like a gutbucket.

I got inside and realised I had made a mistake. This place was clean. Seriously clean. Nicely decorated, shiny, and totally empty except for an attractive brunette behind the reception desk. No queue, I thought. Might as well.

The girl stood up and directed me to a free chair in front of a mirror, and proceeded to cut my hair. She asked me what I wanted, and then set about it. No small talk or chit-chat until the very end, when we had an amusing exchange about hair gel.

The haircut is good. Not as good as Maria, but time can sometimes heal.

Best bit of all was that she charged half as much as Maria used to.

You could say that she’s a cheap whair.

Now nominate me for Post of the Month.

Guidance

So you want to be a TELEPHONE DESIGNER?

Post author By pete
Post date 2003-08-18
No Comments on So you want to be a TELEPHONE DESIGNER?

You’ve already taken the FIRST STEP by buying this guide!

Many people have DREAMS of being a TELEPHONE DESIGNER from an early age, and many don’t realise it until they are older. This guide is designed for people of all ages, races, SEXUAL ORIENTATIONS and body shapes, in order to help them ACHIEVE their goals of becoming a TELEPHONE DESIGNER!

You will need to equip yourself with some things in order to start your career as a TELEPHONE DESIGNER. Find yourself a PENCIL and PAPER.

Okay, we’re ready to start!

Firstly, you will need to understand what people want from their TELEPHONES. It needs to be COMFORTABLE against the side of the face, and in many circumstances people want their TELEPHONES to LOOK GOOD. It will also need to have lots of FEATURES like a memory, a last number redial, and a secrecy button so that they can shout WANKER down the TELEPHONE at people without them hearing.

To make sure that your TELEPHONE will support these features, make sure that it has SPACE on it for some BUTTONS.

Okay, we’re ready to draw our first TELEPHONE.

Put your PENCIL to the PAPER and draw a closed shape. This can be a CIRCLE, or some sort of DEFORMED CIRCLE, or perhaps a TRAPEZIUM. Draw some BUTTONS on it.

CONGRATULATIONS! You have drawn your first TELEPHONE!

To find out more about becoming a TELEPHONE DESIGNER, purchase my book.

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Airborne Particle Consciousness Week

Post author By pete
Post date 2003-08-04
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I declare this week to be Airborne Particle Consciousness Week (or APCW, if you find that sort of thing easier to pronounce. I personally don’t).

For all of this week, you must be very careful to put the toilet seat all the way down before you flush your toilet.

Now now, don’t laugh. This is a serious matter. The statistics for the number of people who receive infections as a result of airborne particles that have been spread as a result of flushing a toilet whilst the seat is up are frankly quite unobtainable.

So you’ll thank me for this.

Meander

Kidnapping

Post author By pete
Post date 2003-08-04
No Comments on Kidnapping

Whilst walking from Westminster towards old Queenie’s place on Saturday afternoon, Karen and I were overtaken by a small girl on a pink bicycle, who shot off into the distance ahead of us. Bemused that she seemed to be out in London all alone, I suggested to Karen that it would be awfully easy to just grab the kid and run, going so far as to describe the dramatic scene that would be created by the image of a pink bicycle left lying on the ground, its rear wheel slowly rotating.

At this point the mother (yes, there had been a mother present) then walked past us. Whoops, I thought.

Feeling slightly awkward, we took a right at the next junction, partly to avoid a confrontation with the mother (who probably didn’t fancy the idea of her kid being taken) and also to trail a girl wearing a pink skirt with a particularly loose waistband (Karen’s idea, not mine).

Over the course of the next five minutes, the girl on the bicycle crossed our path about four times. The first couple of times it was moderately amusing, and I wondered if perhaps she actually wanted to be kidnapped.

But by the fourth time it was just scary, so I grabbed the girl off of the bike and threw her over the fence into the lake in St James’ Park, leaving a pink bicycle lying on the ground with its rear wheel rotating slowly.

Ewan Food Guidance

Cook With Ewan – ManFood

cook with ewan You are a man. You need food, and you want it now. Your hunger has reached gargantuan proportions, and you have about ten minutes before a very important television programme. Alternatively, you just want to get eating out of the way so that you can move onto more important things.

You need ManFood.

It’s fast and easy. It’s difficult to get wrong, because even when cooked to perfection, it is pretty much inedible. However, this doesn’t matter. You’re so hungry that the food won’t touch your tongue on the way down. You just need a balanced diet to last you through your gym session, and you need it fast.

Boil 5 minute pasta.

Pasta on the boil